


Drained

by CarnivalCommission



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Bloodplay, Bondage, Forced Orgasms, Knifeplay, M/M, Milking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnivalCommission/pseuds/CarnivalCommission
Summary: Just a short commission for Milking Jeff until he's crying, screaming, begging, etc. At the hands of the Frank and possibly later, Joey.This was fun! Some chapters have bloodplay, talk of rape/killing, etc.Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Jeffrey "Jeff" Johansen/Frank Morrison
Kudos: 11





	Drained

Jeff was always aware of his position, that was the point. He needed to be able to look around, take notes where needed, and act accordingly. He was built like a bus, tall and broad. Every part of him was bulky and loud. Hell, even his lungs didn’t wanna help in the situation he’d been given after death.   
The stab wounds don’t stay but the asthma does? What bullshit.  
  
The smallest tasks that should be able to be performed quietly, and efficiently, felt like they took hours for Jeff, between the tightness in his chest and the labored breathing, he often felt like he’d been sent to the entity just to be mocked and played with. Mocked by the other survivors, played with by the killers. All he’d wanted to do was a good job.   
  
A good job.  
  
  
A _Great_ job is what got him stuck in this position, the cold wind was biting at his flesh, the rough wood floor scraped and tortured his knees where he was kneeling before the dirty and dusty mattress upstairs in the very core of where the Legion often dragged him to. As though they couldn’t get enough of him in life, they needed him to, in death.   
  
Specifically one.   
  
Frank.   
  
Joey should’ve been the first of the list to be feared, the man was consistent in beatings, stabbings, and overall abuse to any who crossed his path. The girls, Julie and Suzy seemed almost uninterested in anything that wasn’t their fellow woman. They didn’t find amusement in the screams of men, only the girls who probably had similar tones to the same style of bullying that had been dished out to them before all of this.   
  
Frank, however, had no interest for twinks, no interest for rich boys, not a simple passing thought for the girls that almost swooned at the idea of being chased and gutted like a fish.   
His eyes had been focused and his hands burned, to knock down what towered over him. Mentally, physically, anything. Jeff had been the easiest to pick off.   
  
For months now, he didn’t deal with the sting and agony that was dying with metal piercing his body, or knives being sawed through flesh and muscle. He’d gotten mercy in a more dehumanizing way, and that is exactly what was going on right now.   
Each time the four legion members were sicked on the group of survivors, Frank would do his job, he’d kill them, he’d sometimes be merciful and open the gate for the rare hard worker that was desperate to stay alive, or to patch the gaping , bleeding wounds the killer had inflicted.   
  
Saving Jeff for last to be able to do with him as he wished.   
  
Tonight, particularly, was the same night of each week Jeff hated.   
Frank would have him stripped, despite the cold air, and kneel before his bed, his arms were bound behind his back, and along his chest the rope trailed, before cutting against his hips, and down his thighs. Leaving his bare skin perfectly on display where the nineteen year old sat almost proud. Chin cushioned by the palm of his hand, eyes cutting into the chest hair he possessed, Jeff watched in embarrassing focus, how they followed down the patch of hair to the base of his dick.   
  
Mercy had become sexual at this point, he found sick, disgusting fascination in how hard he could get knowing that Frank was gonna drain him, fuck him, hit him, do anything and he’d have a bed to sleep in for the weekend. He’d drain the other man dry in their dubious consent of a game. Sometimes he’d even learned to like the feeling of the hand that never failed to wring him until his balls felt empty and heavy.   
  
Something Frank enjoyed in him, was how thick he was. He was about seven inches hard, and a few inches thick, the younger man’s thumb and index finger wouldn’t touch when wrapped around him at the thinnest point. His balls were hairless and heavy, they fit almost comfortably in the teens hand and were a torture point of choice when Frank was in a particularly sour mood.   
His head was dizzy, his body felt like it was almost floating around the room though he remained stationary. There was an old bowl on the floor, one he got too used to seeing on these specific nights, and the milky white residue in the bottom showed off the trophies he’d already offered Frank that night. Two orgasms, each one more painfully gifted from a dry, calloused hand than the last.   
  
  
_“Well? You haven’t given me a number yet. How far should we take this tonight?  
  
_Brown eyes glared up at the mask in front of him, small dots in his vision from the second one that had his head reeling. He ground his teeth together, it was that, or spit out something that would only get him in more trouble. So he chose to remain silent, beyond the heaving of his chest and the feeling the rope seem to cinch and tighten with each breath. He wasn’t quite sure what number he could handle, he’d grown accustomed to the two ratio, then Frank would normally be bored enough to fuck him, and continue draining him after. _  
  
  
“Anything? Nothing out of the big, bad, tough guy?”  
_Jeff wouldn’t have any time to comment after the snap at him, before he could register, gloved knuckles cracked against his jaw, sending his unsteady body crumpling to the cold wood floorboards. The Pain took only moments to register after the shock from the cold and impact hit. If he thought the rope was tight before, it was definitely now. _  
  
“What the fuck _do you want me to tell you?!” He finally snapped, what he’d wanted to say next was cut short, by the rope biting into his flesh when Frank gripped it with both hands and heaved him back up onto his knees. " _You_ want a fucking number so bad? Can’t your stupid ass count? You can kill someone, and end up in this shit show but can’t count your own fucking numbers for a game **_YOU_** decided to play!?”

_  
_ He was heated now, he hated being punched and kicked when he couldn’t catch himself, of course who liked it? No one.    
_  
_ “Do it. Do what you always fucking do, you want me to cry so bad? You’re gonna have to do better than a few high school punches, and handjob skills that I’ve had better drunk in an alleyway than in this pathetic ice box excuse for a torture chamber!” _  
  
  
  
_


End file.
